


Second Wind

by BleedingInk



Series: You're The Song Stuck In My Head [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Composer!Castiel, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Rockstar!Meg, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7984048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the success of her album, Meg's career is rising with a second wind and Castiel wonders what will that mean for their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoctorMongoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorMongoose/gifts).



> This is a sequel to [my last year's Megstiel Big Bang Fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4903648/chapters/11246812), so you might wanna go read that first.

There were no words in the English language to describe how much Castiel didn’t want to get out of bed. Well, maybe there were, and maybe Meg would be able to find them, but not him, not when he had just woken up and when he had an entire day ahead of him of… doing things. He had a sound test with Alexis’ band, and then Jo wanted him to have lunch with a “very promising” new singer and her manager, then he would have to get back in touch with the movie studios that wanted him to compose their soundtrack, and honestly, he just wanted to fast forward through all of that. He wanted it to be night again already, he wanted to be at the airport, on the front row of fans and paparazzi that would all have got there to wait for her.

Meg was finally coming home after her Asian Tour and dammit, he missed her. They had talked almost every day while she had been away (not an easy task considering stupid time zones and how busy they both were), but it wasn’t the same as having her there. He missed her manic energy, her laughter, the way she made the room seem a little bit brighter whenever she walked in. He was going to hold her so tight and the minute she set a foot down from the plane and he didn’t care how many cameras would be flashing when he did.

And then he was going to drag her into his apartment and keep her there the entire weekend. He missed touching her, kissing her, and the thought they would be alone at last for a while made his fingertips tingle, like she was a piano and he was dying to interpret the most complex melody with her.

Finally he managed to kick the sheets aside. He would be running on that thought the entire day, that, and as many cups of coffee he could manage to down before his drive arrived. He walked into the kitchen, stumbling and rubbing his eyes, and he was so busy setting up the coffee maker without breaking anything that at first he didn't notice anything unusual.

Then, when he did notice it, he passed it off as being a product of his imagination, and even started wondering if he had left the bed at all. Maybe this was one of those dreams where he was certain he had woken up and was doing stuff, but in fact he was still snoozing back in his nest of pillows and sheets.

But after blinking and rubbing his eyes a bit more, he realized he wasn't hallucinating and he wasn't dreaming. There was really a violet suitcase parked right beside the umbrella stand and a pair of high heel black boots right randomly abandoned in the middle of his living room.

There was only one person who had the key to his apartment, and only one person he knew that was capable of just barging into someone's house and leave a mess like that behind. And both those persons happened to be his girlfriend.

"Meg?" he asked out loud, looking around. He was half expecting her to stumble out of the bathroom or something, but his apartment was as silent as it had been a moment before. Maybe she had just left her things and went out again to get breakfast? It wouldn't be the first time she did something like that. Should he call her? Or Jo, perhaps? Where was she...?

In his couch. She was curled up in his couch, sleeping as happy as a child, with her dark hair falling over her face and both hands underneath her head forming an improvised pillow. She was still wearing jeans and a hoodie and her "I am famous kit" (her baseball hat and sunglasses) laid on the coffee table in front of her.

He had no idea what time she had arrived or how she had slipped past the paparazzi or convinced her manager to change the date of the flight. But what really mattered was that she was there, after all that time, really there, in the flesh.

Castiel had to resist the impulse to jump over her and wake her up by kissing her until they were both out of breath. No. She deserved something a little bit more delicate.

He always thought coffee took an eternity to be ready, but that morning it was especially slow. Finally he added two spoons of sugar to his (Meg liked her coffee black and bitter ‘like her soul’) and tiptoed back into the living room. He made sure to move the ‘I am famous’ kit away before sitting in the coffee table and placing the cup near Meg’s face.

Meg breathed in the scent and immediately stretched her hand to try and reach out for it. Castiel kept it just close enough for her fingerprints to graze the cup, but not quite close that she could grab it. Meg groaned in frustration and slowly (still without opening her eyes), she sat up and leaned forwards, blindly trying to get her coffee… until her face was close enough to Castiel that he could leave a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“Good morning.”

Meg’s eyelids fluttered and she lifted them up, but only a little bit. When her still half-asleep (and almost certainly jet-lagged) brain realized who he was, she smirked groggily.

“Hey,” she muttered.

Castiel lowered his head to kiss her on the lips this time, and like she was the Sleeping Beauty from the tale, she finished waking up this time.

“Wait.” She pushed him away and shook her head, as if she was confused. “What time did I get here?”

“I was hoping you could tell _me_ that,” Castiel said, smiling at her disconcert. “I didn’t even hear you coming in.”

Meg winced as if Castiel had just said something very embarrassing to her.

“No!” she complained. “For fuck’s sake, I had this whole thing planned! I was going to take a quick shower and then I was going to wake you up and then…”

Castiel shushed her with another kiss, deeper and hungrier this time. He tangled his fingers in her hair while cupping her cheek with his other hand, and he was glad to feel her relaxing against his mouth. After so many weeks, so many rushed phone calls and texts, it almost felt like a dreaming that she was there, solid and real and…

Meg pulled him by the shirt so suddenly he almost knocked down the cups of coffee. Now they were on the couch, half-lying, half-sitting, and Castiel was barely maintaining his balance with a knee between her legs. Meg bit his lower lip viciously, sucking all the air from his lungs at once. She sank her nails in the back of his head and muttered something, but all Castiel could hear was the loud pounding of his heart in his ears.

Finally, she let go of him and smiled when she saw him gasping for air.

“I missed you, Clarence,” she said between pants.

Castiel was going to tell her that he’d missed her too, that he had been longing for her for so damn long it felt like a lifetime and that now she was there…

“Wait,” he said when she tried to pull him for another kiss. “Wait, we don’t have to… we have all day, we don’t have to hurry…”

“You sure about that?”

And those four little words were enough for real life to slap Castiel in the face. Suddenly he remembered all the appointments and phone calls he had to make and his brunch with Jo and…

“I knew it.” Meg sighed. “I look away for two seconds and she starts exploiting you.”

“Well, at least she exploits me at home,” Castiel commented. He ran his thumb across the dark circles beneath Meg’s eyes. “Unlike you, who basically have to be exploited overseas and shipped back when she pleases.”

“Don’t you hate our jobs?”

Castiel sat up and maneuvered Meg onto his lap. She had lost some weight while she was away, even though he imagined the crazy life on the tour had been more than enough excuse for her to indulge in her horrible, junk-food habits. He made a mental note to buy something healthy for her to eat.

“I do,” he told her, burying his face on her neck. “We should run away.”

“Totally. I’ll fake my death; you collect my life insurance and then join me in this little island in the middle of the Pacific.”

“I don’t think they would let me collect your life insurance.”

“Yeah, you’re right. We would have to get married first.”

Castiel chuckled against her soft skin and Meg shuddered under the tickling.

“Weren’t you the one saying marriage is an institution and it’s not punk rock to willingly enter any institutions?” he joked.

“Well, you know… I could always make an exception for you.”

She didn’t sound like she was joking anymore. Castiel slowly pulled away and looked up her face, but she was already averting her gaze.

“Uh, coffee!” she said, sliding away and grabbing the cup from the table. She tasted it and wrinkled her nose in disgust. “No, this is that weak, sugary shit you drink. Where’s the real coffee?”

“You know, you don’t have to drink it like that just to prove how tough you are,” Castiel chortled as Meg practically shoved his cup in his hands. “It’s okay to admit you like some cream on it now and then.”

“Give me break. I’ve been back for five minutes and you already started with the innuendos.”

“I am not…” Castiel trailed off and realized there was no point in arguing with her. Not so soon, in any case. “Doesn’t matter. It’s good to have you home.”

It was strange. Usually Meg would have protested that was _his_ home and she was only a guest in it until she actually rent her own place (which she never got around doing). So, virtually, and no matter how much Meg protested and denied it, they _were_ living together, just like they had been since the second day of meeting each other, a year and a half ago. A lot of things had changed since then, and Castiel wondered if maybe she was thinking about them too as she smiled at him and grazed his hand with hers.

“It’s good to be home,” she said, instead of dancing around the fact.

Castiel had learned to cherish the quiet moments, because they were so rare. Waking up to her face on the other side of the bed and staying very still until she opened her eyes too; watching her standing on the kitchen, singing her favorite lyrics out loud; her fingers lazily sliding on her guitar while they pretended they were writing a new song but in fact were just enjoying each other’s company. And now this, sitting on the couch together having breakfast and not talking at all, just letting the peace of that brief few minutes wrap around them like a warm blanket.

Of course, he couldn’t entirely shake the nagging sensation that there was something different about Meg. Maybe she was just tired after the long trip (he still couldn’t explain what had she said or done to get there almost twelve hours before he was expecting her to), maybe she was hungry or anxious or had something on her mind she wasn’t ready to share just yet. But talking about _home_ and _marriage_ wasn’t like her.

Meg emptied her cup in one gulp and placed it back over the coffee table, making damn well sure _not_ to use the coaster Castiel had left there for that purpose. And yeah, that was a lot more like her.

“Well.” She stretched her hands over her head, making all the bones in her back crack slightly. “Better make the most of it while we can, huh?”

“I’ll try to be back early,” Castiel promised as she stood up and turned her back on him. “You can rest until then, and we can order take out or…”

His voice trailed off. Meg had just pulled her hoodie and her shirt over her head, with complete disregard of Castiel’s attempt at concentration.

“I mean, uh… we can… wait…”

Meg threw her a look over her shoulder, a look that left no doubt what she was thinking about.

“Tomorrow’s gonna be frantic too,” she commented, moving a hand up and down her own arm, almost as if she was taunting Castiel to come that himself. “We got that thing, remember?”

Castiel wasn’t sure what ‘thing’ she was referring to, but then again, there was no much blood flooding to his brain at that precise moment.

“So… I think what we should do is take a long… hot… shower… right now,” Meg continued. “After all, we gotta save water, right? And we can do that if we just shower together. It’s the logical thing to do.”

She stalked away towards the bathroom, and a second later, Castiel heard the water running. He was not proud to admit he stumbled twice as he rushed after her.

 

* * *

 

He was late to his first appointment that day because he lost track in the shower. Jo threw a murderous glare at him while he sat on the table where they were having brunch, but really, she was the only one to blame. If he let Meg had shorter tours and stay home for longer periods, he wouldn’t have been so desperate to feel her skin against his, to kiss her under the torrent of hot water until they both run out of breath and to keep thinking about it even now when he was supposed to be presenting his work to a new singer.

Tracy Bell was apparently a young YouTube sensation who could have her pick from all the record labels that had reached out to her and Jo was counting on Castiel to impress her.

It didn’t go very well.

“I mean, I’ve heard your material, what you’ve recorded with Meg Masters, and it’s good, don’t get me wrong,” she said. “But I sing another style and I’m not sure…”

“I know, I’ve seen your videos,” Castiel said. He pulled the CDs in which he had recorded some melodies (he had given up trying to write lyrics long ago) and slid them towards her. “Please, listen to them, and I hope you will consider signing up with Roadhouse Records. I would be honored if you’d like to work with me.”

There was really nothing else he could say. Missouri Moseley, Tracy’s manager, tilted her head at him.

“Huh,” she commented, but she didn’t let slide what she meant by that. “Well, we’ll think about it. And good luck to you, by the way.”

They finished the brunch without a concrete answer and as soon as Tracy and Missouri left, Jo hit Castiel in the head.

“That was weak!” she complained. “I swear, Cas, if we lose this girl, I will personally kill you.”

Castiel didn’t react. He was used to Jo’s workaholic outburst.

He spent the afternoon with Alexis and the Hunters in the recording studio which, in turn, was basically just a major rescheduling because the titular Alexis had polyps and couldn’t sing. The recorded some of the other kids’ parts and called it a day early.

“Jo’s not going to be happy about this,” Ash commented.

“You let me deal with Jo,” Castiel said. “If we’re done here, I should really go.”

“Right, Meg’s coming back today,” Krissy remembered.

“Give her our best,” Josephine added. “We would love if she could come and see us? Maybe record something with us? Can we do that?”

Alexis wrote something in the notepad they had given her to communicate and held it high for him to read: “Wish her good luck”.

Castiel didn’t know which part was weirder: that they didn’t know Meg was coming back or the fact they were wishing her good luck for no apparent reason. In any case, he was so ever so glad when he came home and found clothes spread everywhere and the TV on pretty loud despite the fact Meg wasn’t in the living room. Noisy and messy. She was definitely home.

“Meg?” he called out.

“Meg Masters is returning right now,” the TV presenter was informing while paparazzi took pictures of a woman with black hair descending from a plane. “The twenty-nine years old singer has had a very successful tour in Japan, Thailand and several Chinese cities to promote her most recent album…”

Castiel did a double take. With the glasses and the cap, the woman they were photographing did look a bit like Meg, especially for how she walked so quickly and got into the car without addressing any of the questions thrown at her.

But he knew she couldn’t be Meg Masters, because Meg Masters was popping her head out of the door to look at him.

“Yes?”

Castiel pointed at the TV, confused. “Why are you on the airport?”

“Oh, that’s Sarah. She’s my decoy,” Meg explained, with a shrug, before she disappeared in the room again. “I told Jo to get me one because I needed some fucking sleep before tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?” Castiel asked. He turned off the TV and followed her. Meg was inside his walk-in closet. “What are you doing in there?”

“Making a life or death decision,” she replied, walking out. She was holding a long purple dress in one hand and a shorter white dress with a wide black belt around the waist. “Which one you like more?”

“Well… personally, I’m partial to the one in the middle.” Castiel tilted his head. Meg was barefoot and in her underwear, so of course his mind immediately went to the gutter. She clicked her tongue, apparently annoyed at his lack of self-control.

“I’m serious, Cas,” she said. “I have to decide and call Pamela back, so she can call the designers and find me shoes to match. If it was up to me, I’ll use the ancient eeny, meeny, miny, moe technique, but I figured you should have saying into it.”

“Why?” Castiel asked, more perplexed than ever. That was definitely not something Meg did, at all, ever. When it came to her clothes and her looks, the only one she allowed to have a saying was her stylist, and even then she reserved the right to veto anything she didn’t like.

“Because you’re the one who’s going to be walking with me down the red carpet,” she explained.

Castiel blinked, completely at lost about what she was talking about.

“The Fan’s Pick Music Awards?” Meg reminded him. “We’re nominated for Best Rock Album for _Indestructible_? And Best Female Artist. And also Album of the Year.”

As she spoke, the thing she was mentioning started to come back to Castiel’s memory. He vaguely remembered Jo sending him an e-mail about it, but he might have been half-asleep while reading it, because it had completely slipped his mind afterwards.

“You mean, _you_ are nominated,” he pointed out.

“Shut up. We both worked on the thing,” Meg reminded him, throwing the dresses on the bed like they had offended her somehow. “So as far as I’m concerned, we’re both nominated, and I’m bringing you as my plus one.”

Castiel startled again at that. “Meg… it’s a live television event. There’s going to be cameras there.”

“Well, yeah, I would expect.” She sat between the dresses, rolling her eyes. “I can already hear them. ‘ _Oh, Meg, you look so stunning. Who are you wearing?_ ’ One of these days, I’m going to answer I’m wearing the skin of their loved ones and see if that shuts them up…”

Castiel kept watching her ramble and complain, and suddenly he realized why she had been acting so weird the entire day and while people kept wishing them luck. She hated having people snooping around in her private life, especially since she had been involved in so many scandals in the past. Sometimes she read tabloids out loud just so the two could laugh about how wildly inaccurate the speculations about her love life were.

According to the press, they had broken up around fifteen times and Meg had hooked with at least three other guys in between reconciliations. The latest rumor was that he had travelled to see her during her tour and they had eloped and had a secret flash wedding in Barcelona before Meg’s concert. Naomi, Castiel’s mother, had called him to shout at him for not telling her he was getting married and for still not taking Meg to Illinois so she could meet his “bride”. Meg had laughed herself to tears when he’d told her.

But this… this was a completely different animal. They were going to be out, together, in a very public setting, with photographers and people from the ambit, and they would probably have to answer questions about themselves. It was like Meg was dragging their relationship out into the spotlight for the whole world to see and stop bugging her about it.

And she was nervous about it. For reasons Castiel couldn’t quite comprehend, she was going out of her mind at the thought.

He sat by her side and grabbed her hand. Meg immediately went quiet.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Why do you assume there’s something that matters? Everyone and their moms already knows we’re dating. It doesn’t matter,” she replied, shaking her head. Of course, she wasn’t making a good job at convincing him, so he waited in silence. “Nope, doesn’t matter at all. Doesn’t matter that we will be there in front of everybody… in front of my former band, too.”

Castiel let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding. It wasn’t about them, after all. They were okay. He already knew that, of course, but it was always nice to confirm it.

“They’re also nominated?”

“Best Rock Album.”

“That makes no sense. Their last album sucked,” Castiel said. And that was a completely objective opinion, not at all influenced by the fact they had kicked Meg out and now they were in direct competition with her.

“Well, they are,” Meg muttered. “And some people I know tell me their chances are good for winning, so…”

Castiel immediately understood Meg’s fears. If they won, it meant that after all, after all her hard work, after going her own way and doing her own thing, after cleaning herself and starting over with someone knew, she was still not better off without Lucifer’s Brides. Of course that wasn’t true, but he could understand why Meg could see that way.

He put a hand around her waist and when she looked at him (so sad, so fearful); he pushed her down on the bed. They rolled over the dresses and he was pretty sure Pamela would kill him for it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Listen to me,” he muttered, leaning his forehead against hers. “You’re amazing. You’re wicked talented. And not many people have the courage to come back after everything you had to endure. You are so, so brave, and your album is wonderful, so it’s going to get all of the awards…”

“Our album,” she corrected him, grabbing the lapels of his shirt to pull him down until their noses were grazing each other. “You mean _our_ album.”

Castiel would have argued that point, but she didn’t let him. Their mouths clashed together and Castiel shifted a little so he was on top of her instead of awkwardly half-sitting on the bed. Meg bit his lower lip, sending an electric shiver down his spine. Of course, that pleased her immensely.

“How mad do you think Pamela will get if we do it all over these dresses?” she asked, with that mischievous glimmer in her eye that meant she was totally being serious at the moment.

“I figure she would resign out of pure indignation,” Castiel said. “And then who would pick a suit for me to match your outfit?”

Meg laughed and she pushed the dresses and carelessly let them fall over the floor. Castiel was completely certain that was the absolute best position for them to be.

“You know what infuriates me the most?” she commented, as she let her hands roam down Castiel’s back. “The hypocrisy. These guys were supposed to be my friends, you know, but some of the things he said after I left the band…”

“They weren’t true,” Castiel said, snuggling his nose against her neck to leave a trail of soft kisses on her collarbone.

“I know they weren’t,” Meg replied. “That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It’s like the masks came off and suddenly all I could see was the ugliness beneath…”

Her hands stopped mid-stroke. Castiel looked up.

“The masks came off…” Meg repeated pensively.

“And?” Castiel asked, propping himself up on an elbow.

“And underneath there was… darkness?” Meg tried, but she shook her head. “No, it doesn’t sound good. What do you think about when I say masks?”

“I think… duplicity, shiftiness,” Castiel replied. Meg’s expression was no longer playful or lustful, but contemplative, as if she was deep in thought. He knew what she was thinking about, and he himself started feeling the tingling in his fingertips that signaled sudden inspiration. “I think balls, carnivals…”

“Carnivals,” Meg repeated. “The Carnival of Venice, with all the costumes and the music sounding out loud… all the colors, and the lights, and the tinsels…”

“ _The Cask of_ _Amontillado_ ,” Castiel remembered suddenly. “The Poe tale, it takes place in Venice, I think. The main character uses the carnival as a distraction to take revenge upon his enemy.”

“Huh,” Meg muttered. She looked down at Castiel’s half unbuttoned shirt. “Do you still want to, or…?”

“I’ll bring the music sheets.”

“I’ll get my guitar.”

They stumbled upon the rabbit hole with absolute ease, as if they had never climbed out in the first place. They argued loudly about words and notes, completely ignoring both their cellphones ringing madly on the other room.

By the time Castiel looked up from the mess of papers covering the floor, it was one o’clock in the morning. Meg was sitting on the lotus position over the coffee table, with her hair tied up in a messy bun and wearing one of his shirts while she feverishly scribbled words down in front of her, stopping now and then to chew on her pen. The floor in front of her was littered with balls of paper she would probably would have second thoughts about discarding until she was satisfied with the song that could came out of them. It was funny, the way she scrunched up her nose and squinted her eyes at her own words, like she was trying to decipher something in them that was hidden for her.

“What?” she asked when she heard Castiel chuckling softly. “What is it?”

“Nothing, just… I missed you.”

He had said that before, but this time he meant differently. He had missed his best friend, his girlfriend, the woman that made his skin tingle and his mornings a lot more pleasant. But he had also missed the mad genius that wrote songs with him, his artistic partner, the brilliant lyricist that was always ready to correct his clumsy words and made his melodies all the more worthy.

And he realized right at that moment how lucky he was to have all that rolled into a single person that happened to love him back.

Meg smirked at him and put the notebook and pen aside.

“I missed you too.”

She crawled towards him to sit on his lap. Castiel brushed aside a lock of her hair before kissing her, and the rest of the night became a pleasant blur.


	2. Chapter 2

“Stop fidgeting.”

“I’m sorry. I’m nervous.”

Meg leaned over on the car’s seat and adjusted his tie for him.

“No need to be. Just smile and look pretty. It’s all you have to do.”

Castiel doubted it would be so simple.

Dean stopped the car and looked at them over his shoulder.

“Last time for you guys to change your mind and go have dinner somewhere.”

He was only joking, but it was a testament to how much they both did not want to do this that they actually exchanged a look, as if they though the other would say something and they could both run away from this.

A second later, they were laughing silly at their own cowardice.

“Oh, just open the door,” Meg determined.

Dean exited the car to do just that.

Flashes of lights were all over them almost immediately. Castiel had to blink several times to recover his focus, but he still managed to scramble out of the car and extend a hand to help Meg come out. And if he thought the flashes were bad before, now they were completely under siege.

Not that he could blame the photographers. In the end, Meg had chosen the long purple dress, and she looked simply spectacular in it. Well, she always looked spectacular in Castiel’s opinion, but Pamela had made sure she looked red-carpet spectacular that night: the dress’ skirt floated around her legs like a cloud with every step she took and her high heel black sandals with encrusted stones made her steps all the more elegant. At her side, Castiel looked coarse and almost small in his tuxedo and black tie. At least Pamela had got him a purple shirt to match her, but still, he felt he was an accessory as much as the clutch purse and the matching lipstick she was wearing.

It didn’t matter. He was always happy to let her outshine him.

“Meg, please, Meg, look over here!”

“What brand are your shoes? Who are you wearing, Meg?”

Meg turned to him and rolled her eyes, but she still smiled at the reporters and posed for them with a hand on her waist and her characteristic devilish smirk. Castiel was hunching a few steps behind her, but Meg grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him so he would be standing by her side.

“What are you doing?” he asked, panicking for a second.

“Just smile, Clarence. It’ll be over in a second.”

To Castiel, it seemed to go on for an eternity, but finally Meg moved forwards, ignoring the questions they shouted at her on the way.

“Shouldn’t you at least answer some?”

“What for?”

“It was in the memo Jo sent about how you should behave in the red carpet.”

Meg sighed exasperated and looked around at the mass of paparazzi crowding the other side of the rope that separated them from the artists.

“Meg, please, over here!” a rather young, short girl shouted. She seemed at the edge of tears and like the crowd around her was about to swallow her. “Please, can you tell us about your next project?”

Meg strode towards the girl without a doubt. Castiel stood a few steps behind her as the cameraman pointed at them.

“What’s your name?” she asked the reporter girl. Several others hurriedly pointed at her when they realized she was going to speak.

“Becky Rosen, from E!” the reporter girl said, visibly relieved and almost like she’d forgotten she was the one supposed to be making the questions. Meg crooked an eyebrow at her and Becky recovered quickly: “Right. _Indestructible_ was a great unexpected success. Can you tell us what comes next for you?”

“Well, I don’t know to whom it was unexpected. I knew we had a hit from the get-go.” Meg lied remarkably well. Castiel almost wanted to laugh along the reporters, but he knew that façade of confidence was just part of her character. “To answer your question, I just came back from an exhausting world-wide tour. Is two seconds of peace too much to ask?”

Becky looked immediately mortified while the other journalists laughed, but Meg stuck her tongue out at them.

“Just teasing. Castiel and I are already working on some new tunes and they’re coming along great. It’s always a pleasure to work with him. Reminds me what I love about my job.”

Castiel figured not many of the pictures they were taking of him would be useful, what with him looking completely disoriented or smiling sappily at her.

“This album felt really personal,” Becky was asking now. “Is the next one going to be too?”

“All art is personal in some way, isn’t it?” Meg asked. “But I know what you mean, and no, I don’t think people have the tolerance to hear me complain forever. I can tell you the next album is going to be a concept album, drawing inspiration from several Edgar Allan Poe’s stories and poems. And that’s all I can reveal for now.”

Becky opened her mouth, but her voice got drowned by several others speaking at the same time:

“Are you excited about tonight? Do you think you’re going to win?”

“Your former bandmates are going to be here. Are you nervous about crossing paths with them?”

“Are you planning on marrying your boyfriend anytime soon?”

Castiel definitely wished they’d moved on now, but Meg grabbed him one more time and dragged him right in front of the reporters.

“Any comments about that, Cas?” she asked, playfully.

“Yes… I mean, no,” he said, as the roaring of questions and the clicks of the camera started again. “I mean, we’re very happy with both our professional and personal relationship as it is right now.”

“There you have it, folks,” Meg said. “Perfectly happy. Thank you all. I think Lady Gaga is coming this way.”

Castiel looked over her shoulder, but before he could see if Lady Gaga was really behind them, Meg used the reporters’ distraction to drag him away from them. She was incredibly quiet, with her head turned away from him, and suddenly, Castiel feared he had said something he shouldn’t.

“Meg…” he started.

Meg dragged him through the door of the theater and burst out laughing the moment there weren’t more cameras pointing at them.

“Oh, my God, Jo should hire you as a PR person! ‘ _We’re very happy the way our relationship is now_ ’,” she repeated, imitating his tone in a stuffier, more robotic tone that Castiel was pretty certain wasn’t as bad as his. “Dude, they’re going to start speculating about our break-up now.”

“Again?” Castiel asked, and Meg laughed once more.

A man with a paperclip and a pass around his neck approach them and after checking their names of a list, he guided them inside the theater.

“You’re going to be on the fifth row,” he indicated. “Leave these two seats empty and the following two are yours.”

“Who’s going to sit here?” Meg asked.

The usher consulted his list. “Miss Anna Milton and her plus one. Goodnight, and good luck, miss Masters.”

“They sat us near the hall,” Castiel pointed out. “That means they expect you to get up and go to the stage, right?”

“I highly doubt it,” Meg said, rolling her eyes. “This things are chosen at random, Clarence. They don’t mean a thing. I’m not going to win, okay? Just stop saying that.”

She was so convinced of it that she hadn’t even prepared a speech, despite Jo calling her and asking her to. Castiel kept watching her ramble about how impossible it was for her to win and smiling to himself. The polls didn’t close until the show began, and he was pretty sure there was some sort of ethical problem with it, but he had entered the site and voted for their album a couple of times. He felt confident.

He grabbed her hand while she kept rambling about how much she wasn’t going to win, and before she could continue, he placed a kiss over her knuckles. Meg’s voice trailed off as she turned around to look at him with a mixture of irritation and surprise.

“Has anyone told you you’re the most mesmerizing person in the room?” he asked her.

“You’re pushing your luck, Novak,” she warned him.

“I am lucky enough to be here with you right now.” He shrugged. “I’d say I’m already lucky beyond what I deserve.”

“Oh, shut up.” She leaned over him and put a hand on her cheek. “You deserve so much more.”

Castiel would have asked her what she meant, but someone cooed behind them.

“You guys are the cutest,” said the redheaded woman with a simple white dress and a flower crown in her head. Castiel didn’t think he’d seen her before.

A devilish smile appeared on Meg’s lips.

“Why, thank you, Anna,” Meg replied. She turned around, but whatever was the smart comment she was about to make died on her lips when she saw the other woman standing there. “Ruby.”

She was wearing a three-piece black suit, complete with a vest and a black tie, perhaps to contras her partner’s dress. It took Castiel a second to place her face: she was he bassist of Meg’s former band. In all the videos she had seen her, she always apathetic and sarcastic (a little bit like the rest of the band, to be honest) but now her dark eyes were open wide in surprise and her full lips were parted as if she had forgotten something she was about to say.

“Oh,” she muttered in the end. “Hi.”

The tension continued for a couple of seconds. Anna looked at Castiel as if she was hoping he would know what to say, but the truth was, he had been caught defenseless just as well. Luckily, Meg recovered from anything quite quickly.

“You guys are together?” she commented.

“Yes.” Ruby looked down at the hand she had interlocked with Anna. “For a few months now.”

“That’s nice,” Meg said. Then she burst into laughter, but Castiel knew the way she laughed and he could tell she was forcing it a little. “Oh, come on, let’s not even pretend they didn’t expect to cause a lot of drama by putting us so close.”

Ruby smiled as well, as if she knew exactly who Meg was talking about when she said “they”.

“They actually sit us all here,” she said, pointing at the three empty seats behind them.

“Ah, a Satan’s Brides forced reunion,” Meg commented, rolling her eyes. “Thanks for the warning.”

Anna visibly relaxed and sat beside Meg, almost as if she thought a physical barrier between her and Ruby was still necessary.

“So how you’ve been?” she asked, trying to bring up casual conversation. “I haven’t seen you since that collaboration we made when you were still in Satan’s Bride.”

“Bouncing around,” Meg asked, without compromising.

“I heard your new album. It was awesome,” Anna continued, while Ruby sank in her seat and folded her arms across her chest, like she wished she could be anywhere but there at that precise moment. “I was actually wondering if I could borrow your songwriter…”

“No,” Meg said simply, squeezing Castiel’s hand. “I don’t lend him out to people.”

“Neither does the label,” Castiel pointed out. He was being completely serious, but the three girls laughed at him for some reason.

“Besides, we’re working on something new,” Meg said. “So he’s going to be busy.”

“Already?” Ruby asked. She seemed even more surprised by that than being sat next to her former bandmate. “I mean, sure, you can do that. But we usually waited until after the award’s season so we could start…”

“Advantages of being your own boss,” Meg explained. “Speaking of bosses, how’s Luc?”

“Don’t know,” Ruby huffed, as if she was a bit frustrated by the question. “Haven’t really talked to him since we came back from the tour.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we might be going in a bit of a hiatus after this,” Ruby muttered. She didn’t sound particularly happy about this.

“Oh,” Meg said.

It sounded like she meant a lot more by that, but before Castiel could ask why “going on hiatus” was a bad thing for them, the rest of the band arrived.

“Well, if it isn’t the woman of the hour,” a mocking voice said behind them.

Castiel looked over his shoulder, and this time, he had no problem recognizing the three persons standing behind them: the blonde one was Lilith, Lucifer’s wife and the band’s guitarist, and the other was Abaddon (was that even her real name?) who had replaced Meg after she had left the band. Or been expelled, according to her. And a couple of very sharp journalist who could never find out if they had been right due to non-disclosure agreements.

Both the women were wearing black dresses like they were dressed up for an elegant funeral (Lilith even had a little hat with a veil falling over her eyes) while Lucifer had opted to dress in very tight jeans and a leather jacket. Without a shirt underneath. Castiel’s eyes got up on his nipples and the tattoos on his chest and stomach before he could bring himself to look at him in the face. And when he did, he started wondering how a single man could don so much eyeliner.

Meg’s smile was all teeth.

“Luc!” she greeted him with such a pleasant tone Castiel should have known she was following it up with something sarcastic. “I see you didn’t use up those thirty pieces of silver to buy yourself a sense of fashion.”

Ruby had a coughing fit that sounded a lot like she was trying to drown out her laughter. The smile in Lucifer’s face became a little tenser and Lilith started trying to calm the tension.

“Meg, please,” she said. “Must we be this mean with each other?”

“I don’t know, Lilith, must we be?” Meg asked, crooking an eyebrow.

Castiel started wondering if Pamela had incorporated some sort of failsafe mechanism in the dress from which he could hold her back if she tried to physically fight someone. He looked at Ruby who was still cough-laughing and at Anna, who looked very sad about the whole situation.

“Guys, please,” she said. “You all used to be friends.”

“And besides there’s cameras pointing this way,” Castiel commented, because he knew Meg didn’t care about their past friendship, but she would hate for their problems to be displayed in public like that. Meg looked up to see the photographers in the loges, all pointing their cameras at them. She clicked her tongue and grabbed Castiel’s hand again.

“Forget it,” she murmured, turning her head. “I ain’t even gonna give them the satisfaction.”

It was hard to tell if she meant the paparazzi or her former bandmates. Maybe she meant both. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter: according to Castiel’s watch, it was about time for the ceremony to begin, and indeed, there was an usher coming their way to tell Lucifer and the other two girls to sit down.

But Lucifer wasn’t going to let it go so easily. He placed himself right behind Meg and leaned over to whisper:

“I’m actually not sad you left us. At least we have a real guitarist now.”

“That’s nice,” Meg muttered, without even turning while the lights went off. “Let me know when you find yourself a real lyricist as well.”

If Lucifer came up with an answer, he wasn’t able to say it, because loud music invaded the theater and a rough voice announced from the speakers:

“Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the Fan’s Pick Music Awards! With you, your hosts, Gabriel the Trickster and Kali the Destroyer!”

The spotlights swept the stage until they focused on Gabriel and Kali… who were furiously making out on the side. They continued kissing until Kali realized they were being watched. She made a scandalized face and patted Gabriel a couple of times until he too raised his head to see the people watching. They let go quickly and pretended to iron out their clothes and fix their hair while the audience roared with laughter and applause.

“Good night, thank you. Thank you, guys. We didn’t expect you to come so soon.”

“Ah, doesn’t that remind me of the days when we were married,” Kali said, rolling her eyes.

The audience laughed again, but more important to Castiel, Meg laughed. She leaned against his shoulder and with long, deep sigh, she relaxed visibly. The two hosts kept cracking jokes and riling up the audience before they presented the first band that was going play that night: a pop group of five kids that couldn’t be older than nineteen, singing and dancing to a cheesy, repetitive tune about how much they missed a girl that had left them. Castiel could feel his inner composing curling up in a ball and wailing in a corner, and Meg visibly flinched at the corniness of it all.

“Are we back in the freaking nineties?” she complained under her breath.

“No,” Castiel replied. “I have seen more complexity from nineties’ boy bands than from this.”

“Maybe we’re just a couple of old geezers.”

Castiel would have reminded her they were actually not even thirty, but Meg’s diagnosis seemed accurate: the screaming and cheering coming from the ten or twelve rows, where the general public was sitting, was deafening as the five heartthrobs finished their song and stroke a pose that uncomfortably outlined their tight jeans and even tighter shirts.

“I don’t get it,” he concluded in the end.

“Me neither,” Meg admitted. “Just feeding off the money and energy from teenage girls who have nothing better to do with their time, I guess.”

“Isn’t part of your audience made up of teenage girls?”

“That’s different,” Meg replied. “My teenage girls are angry.”

Castiel chuckled as Gabriel and Kali returned to the stage.

“Okay, parents everywhere, that was the presentation from the Teen Angels,” Gabriel said. “You can now send your daughters to bed.”

“Darling, no!” Kali cringed. “The Angel Army will come for you! I can already hear Twitter exploding.”

“Would it make it better if I gave them a prize? Because they’re nominated for the first category of the night.”

The first category of the night was Best Fan Club, and Castiel had no idea what were the parameters to choose that. The amount of followers the artists had on Twitter? The YouTube views? How many stalkers they had to fend off on weekly basis? Meg was as baffled as him, if her crooked eyebrow and barely contained giggles were something to go by.

The Angel Army won, the band climbed on the stage to thank them for their success and sew another round of hysteric yelling and crying.

“Oh, my God, if the entire night is going to be this, I’ll jump from the nearest bridge,” she threatened.

“You should text Dean now, then. He’ll want to avoid traffic.”

At least she found him funny. Not many people did that, or at least, they didn’t when he was actually trying to be funny.

Gabriel and Kali didn’t seem to have that problem: they joked about getting married and divorced twice and going on a third (“Third one’s the charm, right?” “I’m having intense flashbacks to our first wedding night”), they joked about politics and about the channel that was transmitting the events that night like they had no qualms about getting fired because they were actually working on commission. Castiel liked them, their jokes were actually the only thing that made the endless cycle of artists playing and winning awards kind of tolerable.

Not that the presentations were bad or anything. In fact, there were a couple of very impressive ones, like when Bela Talbot performed a very emotional song in the piano with dancers doing a choreography around her or when Anna Milton descended from a crescent moon over the stage in a flowery white dress while singing an enchanting tune about how her new lover made her feel like she could fly. It was easy to see why both had been nominated to Best Female Artist against Meg. Ruby was practically drooling.

“I’m banging that,” she commented, leaning over towards Meg.

“I know, honey,” Meg said. “Congratulations.”

There was a loud throat clearing from behind them and Ruby retreated to her seat to watch her girlfriend perform. Castiel took a quick glance over his shoulder. Lucifer was glaring at Ruby angrily while Lilith whispered rapidly in his ear. At their side, Abaddon was looking into the distance, yawning and seemingly bored as all hell.

“Is it a bad thing that she talks to you?” Castiel asked, completely at lost as to why that would anger Lucifer.

“Fuck if I know.” Meg shrugged.

Anna finished her song and Gabriel and Kali reappeared on stage. Gabriel was wailing into a handkerchief while Kali patted him on the shoulder patiently.

“I can’t!” Gabriel sobbed. “I can’t, Kali! They are too good! All these girls are too good! You’re going to have to do the presentation without me!”

“Okay,” Kali sighed. “Here are the nominees for Best Female Artist.”

Meg’s grip around his hand tightened. Her name and those of the other three nominees flashed on the screen behind the stage while Castiel looked at her to see if she was okay. She smirked at him, but he could notice the tension returning to her shoulders and the worry in her eyes. It was as if she was repeating to herself that it didn’t matter if she didn’t win, and…

Gabriel blew his nose noisily while Kali just patiently waited for him to calm down. Castiel realized that now his face and Meg’s were on the screen, on the right corner, and that was such a surreal experience he had to stop and blink at himself. The moment, along with the red carpet pictures, would get later immortalized as “Meg Master’s Boyfriend Acts like a Scared Kitten When Confronted with a Camera” and shared by thousands of people around social media. He would come to guess that was what Jo meant when he warned them about trying to look professional.

“You done?” an exasperated Kali asked on stage.

Gabriel recovered from his crying hilariously fast.

“Yes, I’m done.” He extracted the envelope from inside of his jacket, opened it with grand ceremony and read: “And the winner is… Meg Masters!”

“What?!” Meg shouted and Ruby and Anna started laughing simultaneously.

“Congratulations!” Anna said, shaking her hand.

“T-Thank you,” Meg stammered and turned around wide-eyed as if she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do right now.

Castiel cupped her cheek in his hands and gave her a kiss. “Go.”

Meg staggered past Ruby and Anna, but she recovered and made the rest of the walk to the stage among clapping and the music from _Indestructible_ sounding in the background. She wasn’t astonished enough not to stop and shake some of the hands the general public was stretching towards her.

“Sorry you didn’t win, love,” Ruby told Anna, passing an arm around her shoulders.

“Ah, I’ll get it next year,” Anna said.

Castiel wanted to turn around and see Lucifer’s face, but by then, Meg had climbed up the stage, hugged Kali and Gabriel and taken the prize: it looked like a crystal black spiral, and Meg stared at it like she wasn’t sure what it was.

“I, uh… I didn’t prepare a speech,” she said, when they lent her the microphone. The public laughed, but Castiel knew she was being truthful. “No, really, I didn’t think I would win… how long do I have?”

“Three minutes,” Gabriel informed.

“Okay, well, that’s longer that it took me to come up with some of Satan’s Brides lyrics.”

Ruby burst out laughing unapologetically this time, and Castiel had to use every single ounce of will he had not to turn around and stare directly at Lucifer. He hoped like hell some cameraman was recoding his expressions.

“I kid, I kid,” Meg said, but the devilish smirk upon her lips revealed the truth. “I want to thank, first of all, my partner in crime, my best friend and the person without whom this wonderful album wouldn’t have been possible, Castiel Novak, he’s right over there…”

Castiel didn’t know why people were clapping. And he also didn’t know why he felt like he was blushing so furiously and why there was a lump in his throat.

“I love you. I don’t say it enough, but I do. And I know you love me back, though I’m still unsure as to why…” Her words trailed off as people laughed, and her smile turned uncomfortable. “Also I want to thank all the people who voted for me. You’re all insane, you should have voted for Anna Milton. But thank you, thank you very much!”

“Woah,” Ruby commented as the crowd cheered and Meg was escorted off stage. “She got a little personal there for a second. What’s so special about you?”

Castiel wished he could have responded to that. He was too busy holding back tears and getting his heart to stop pounding like it was going to jump out of his chest, because his girlfriend had just announced to the whole world that she loved him. Luckily, by the time Meg returned to her seat, he had composed himself a little.

“Well, who would have guessed?” she commented, waving the prize around. “At least it’ll look pretty in the middle of the coffee table.”

“I guess.” Castiel took the prize from her hand and weighted it. “Or e use it as a heavyweight instead of your coffee mugs.”

He was completely serious, but Meg still laughed. Her cheeks were burning red and her sigh was one of pure exhaustion when she rested her head against Castiel’s shoulder.

“That was really embarrassing,” she commented. “I don’t want to win another prize.”

Castiel didn’t know if she was being sincere or not, but it didn’t matter. After they announced the Best Pop Album (which Anna won), the announcement for Best Rock Album came. As Gabriel and Kali named the nominees, Meg groaned and buried her face on his shoulder, while a cruel little laughter came from behind them.

“Well, Meg, I really hope you enjoyed that pity prize,” Lucifer said. “’Cause I’m sure it’ll be the last one…”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than harass her?” Castiel snapped. “Like ransacking a make-up store from all its eyeliner, for example?”

Ruby didn’t even attempt to hide her laughter anymore, and even Meg lifted her head with a smile.

“I knew you had it in you, Clarence,” she commented proudly.

She grabbed his chin and pull him down for a kiss…

“And the winner is… Meg Masters! Lucifer, sit down! Yeah, don’t think we didn’t see you, you great bag of dicks!” Gabriel accused him from the stage.

The laughter in the theater grew impossibly loud. Castiel looked back to see that Lucifer indeed was sinking back on his seat, livid, while Abaddon hid her eyes in one hand in shame and Lilith immediately leaned over him and started running her fingers through his hair, as if she was trying to calm him down.

This time, Meg didn’t even try to hide her delight once she reached the stage.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I keep winning and this is awesome,” she commented, holding the second trophy. “Okay, some people I forgot to thank last time: Jo Harvelle, my manager and producer, for letting me be and letting me find my voice again. My friend, Benny Lafitte, for keeping me on a straight path. So many, many others… and again, Castiel, who is right being a total sap who is proud of me and all that. And I keep telling him this album wouldn’t have been possible without his genius and his patience. You push me to be better, baby. I love you. This one is for you.”

The crowd awed in unison and cheered. Anna put her hands over her mouth, like she couldn’t handle how beautiful it all was.

“You are the cutest!” she insisted. “Oh, my God, so cute!”

Ruby kept glancing at Castiel the entire time, almost like she was trying to figure out something very complicated about him. Before she could ask, Meg returned with her second trophy, still laughing out loud in elated victory as a hip-hop trio took the stage to perform.

“Well, now I can use them as dumbbells!” she suggested.

“Two out of three isn’t bad,” Castiel agreed.

Somebody touched her on the shoulder and when she turned around, Abaddon was practically on her face. She grinned like she was forcing herself to and utter a single word:

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Meg replied, blinking as if that was the last thing she expected. She exchanged a confused look with Castiel who, to her amusement, shrugged.

“Let’s go,” Lucifer groaned.

“What? No, it’s not over yet!” Ruby pointed out. “And then we have the after-party…”

“We’re not going to the after-party,” Lucifer said.

“Hey, leave her,” Meg intervened. “Unlike Lilith, she’s not attached to you by the waist.”

Lucifer didn’t take it very well.

“This isn’t any of your concerns,” he told her through gritted teeth.

“I might not be in the band anymore, but Ruby’s still my friend,” Meg replied, shifting in her seat as if she was about to stand up and bludgeon Lucifer with her trophies in the head. In fact, Castiel figured the only reason she hadn’t done that was because he was still holding her hand. “And I don’t like you bullying her.”

“Yeah, and she’s my girlfriend,” Anna added, despite being such a delicate flower child Castiel was certain she picked up spiders and left them on the garden. “So don’t even…”

“Girls,” Ruby interrupted them. “I can handle this.” She turned to Lucifer, and with the most expressionless face Castiel had ever seen on someone, she said: “Go fuck yourself. I’m staying.”

Lucifer was seething and Castiel couldn’t help but to notice several cameras turning quickly on their direction. Sadly for the paparazzi, Lucifer decided not to escalate the situation.

“You’re making a mistake, Ruby,” he warned. “Girls, let’s go. You two, Abaddon,” he added sharply when the redheaded guitarist gave no signs of moving. Abaddon sighed and rolled her eyes, but in the end she stood up and followed him and Lilith outside the theater.

“Well, that was dramatic,” Anna commented. “I hope we don’t get bad karma from it.”

“Does it count if nobody saw it?” Meg asked.

It was true: apart from a few people sitting close to them and the photographers Castiel had noticed pointing their cameras that way, the rest of the crowd seemed enthralled in the group’s performance, who were just finishing and adopting a defiant pose on the stage. The cheering and clapping extended for several minutes while Meg and Ruby looked at each other and promptly began laughing again.

“Thank you, girl,” Ruby said, extended a hand towards her.

“You’re welcome,” Meg replied, grabbing it. “But, uh… I think you just lost you job.”

“Oh, no, you really think Lucifer would kick her out?” Anna asked, opening her eyes wide.

“Don’t worry about it, angel.” Ruby shrugged. “It wasn’t that fun without Meg anyway.”

Gabriel and Kali appeared on stage again, and according to Castiel’s clock, the event was about to finish. So that meant…

“Yes, boys and girls, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for!” Gabriel said, pulling one last envelope from inside his jacket.

“The big one!” Kali said.

“The important one!”

“Here are our nominees for Album of the Year!”

“Maybe we should change seats,” Anna suggested while Kali and Gabriel read the names. “So when Meg wins she doesn’t have to walk past by us.”

“Stop.” Meg rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to win again.”

Castiel could have assured her with all certainty that she would, but experience had proved that she wasn’t going to believe until she had the trophy in her hands.

“Good luck,” he said instead.

Meg looked quite offended. “Now you’ve jinxed it!”

“And the winner is… oh, no surprises here… Meg Masters!”

 _Indestructible_ started blasting at full volume in the theater. Castiel hoped that wherever Lucifer was, he could hear.

“Really?!”

“See, I didn’t jinx it!”

Meg shook her head in utter disbelief, but the beam on her face was undeniable.

“Told you we should’ve switch seats,” Anna commented.

Meg received congratulatory hugs from both Kali and Gabriel behind they handed her the final trophy and the microphone.

“Oh, man, I really should have prepared a couple of speeches,” she commented to general laughter. “Thank you! You’re probably all tired and want to go to the after party, so I’m just gonna keep this short. There is one person I forgot to thank and that is my old friend Nicholas… you may know him as Lucifer. Yeah, that guy,” she added with a vindictive smile when the public cheered. “Thank you for firing me, dude. I am better than I could have ever imagined. Thank you all for voting me, and good night!”

“Oh, boy,” Ruby chuckled. “This is going to be all over Twitter tomorrow.”

“It already is,” Anna said, showing them her phone. Castiel read what the tweet said and insisted they kept it open while Gabriel and Kali announced the closing band of the night and Meg made her way back.

“What?” she asked. “What are you all looking?”

Castiel stood up to show it to her, and Meg laughed so hard there were tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Meg Masters' throwing so much shade she’s turning into a tree.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Really? You’ve never been to an after-party before?”

“I’m… kind of new to the whole high life thing,” Castiel said.

“Well, you’re gonna love it,” Ruby guaranteed. “It’s where the real fun is.”

After the show was over, Meg, Castiel and the rest of the artists had slipped by the theaters back door to avoid the cameras. There were several limos waiting for them, like moms waiting to pick up their children from school or after a soccer match. He commented the thought to Meg, who laughed and asked Anna and Ruby if they wanted to come along in their limo. The girls accepted and helped themselves to the complimentary champagne that the record company had sent to Meg in case she won.

“I’m curious, what were you supposed to do with it if I didn’t win?” she asked Dean.

“I wasn’t given instructions,” Dean said, with his eyes fixed on the road. “So I would have totally stolen it, just FYI.”

“Well, to tonight’s winners!” Ruby said, after they were all finished laughing at that comment. “And to us, who get to be their arm candy!” she added, clinking her glass against Castiel’s.

“Oh, no, baby, you’re not arm candy,” Anna said, grabbing her girlfriend’s hand.

“No, I am totally arm candy,” Ruby argued. “Very sexy, very charming arm candy. You should keep that in mind.”

“I always do,” Anna smiled.

Dean discreetly adjusted the rearview mirror, so he must have been really disappointed when instead of making out, they hooked their arms together and drank their glasses like that. Ruby winced in disgust.

“What is this alcohol free shit?” she complained.

“It has to be. I’m on the straight path now, remember?” Meg commented. Still she only took a few sips before abandoning the glass and choosing to snuggle against Castiel again. Castiel immediately placed an arm around her shoulders as she kicked off her shoes and pulled her feet up on the seat.

Ruby stared at them like they both had suddenly grown a second head.

“I… I thought that was just publicity.”

“Yeah, many people thought it too,” Meg said, bitterly.

“It’s not, though,” Castiel said, to end the conversation there. Meg had told him about how her ex-boyfriend had tempted her with drugs in an incident that ended with some of her nudes being leaked. He didn’t think that was a topic of conversation she’d want to have with an old friend.

Ruby seemed to realize it was better to drop it too.

“Okay,” she replied in the end.

The few awkward seconds that followed where interrupted when Anna announced:

“We’re here!”

The after party was in a five star hotel nearby, miraculously devoid of public, except for a couple paparazzi lurking at the door. With a sigh of exasperation, Meg put on her shoes again.

“If I have to walk on these all night, I swear…”

“Oh, you won’t have to,” Castiel said. “Jo rented us a room and Pamela said she left something more comfortable for you to wear in there.”

“Really?” Meg crooked an eyebrow at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did. You were too busy ranting about how these awards are essentially meaningless to pay attention to me.”

Ruby and Anna giggled like they knew exactly what he was talking about and Meg rolled her eyes at both of them.

“Alright. Time to face the wolves.”

“Call me when you wake up in the morning,” Dean said. “I’m out of here.”

He wasn’t kidding: the limo sped down the street fast enough that it almost left a dust of cloud in its wake. The paparazzi, incredibly, let them pass without asking them to stop for a picture or to answer any questions. They were too busy trying to catch Ruby’s attention.

“Ruby, hey, Ruby! Why didn’t the rest of Satan’s Brides come to the party?”

“No clue, man,” Ruby shrugged. “Lucifer’s a free agent.”

Then, with a swiftness that could only be product of years of practice, she slipped past them without letting go of Anna’s hand in any moment.

“We’ll save you a seat,” Anna promised.

“Go with them,” Meg said.

“Are you sure?” Castiel asked, not willingly to let go of her just then. “Don’t you need anyone to zip up your dress?”

“Tempting, but no,” Meg said. With her heels, she didn’t need to stand on her toes to kiss him, but she still did when planting one on the edge of his lips. “If you behave, I might let you zip it down later.”

She winked and headed for the reception to find their room number. Castiel stood on the lobby, watching her back and wondering if that was enough of a determent not to go after her.

“You coming, Hot Wings?” Ruby asked.

“Yes.” Castiel snapped out of his trance and turned towards them. “Sorry.”

Ruby glanced at him sideways as he followed them towards the other elevator.

“Honestly, what does she see in you?” she asked the second the doors were closed. Castiel had the impression she had been waiting for that moment so he couldn’t escape the inquiry.

“Ruby!” Anna scolded her.

“I’m just asking because Meg and I go way back,” Ruby explained. “And I know what kind of guys she likes. You don’t seem like her type at all.”

“What would her type be?” he asked, trying not to sound offended by that assertion.

“You know, bad boy, lots of tattoos, kind of edgy. You look way too wholesome. No offense,” she added, even though Castiel wasn’t sure he was supposed to feel offended by that. “And she never gets serious with anybody, but tonight she was all like ‘ _Oh, I love my boyfriend, he’s the best, look at my amazing boyfriend over there…!_ ’”

“I said I loved you in my acceptance speech,” Anna pointed out. “It’s what people do. We thank our partners and significant others.”

“ _People_ do it. Not Meg.”

Castiel was aware of that. Well, he thought he was aware of that. He knew Meg wasn’t always an easy person to get along with (Lord knew they had terrible disagreements when they first started working together), and he knew he didn’t let people into her life just like that, not after she had suffered so many disappointments. So having Meg declaring her love for him on live national television was a big deal, but he was only realizing the magnitude of it now that Ruby mentioned it.

“I don’t know,” he said out loud. “What she sees in me, I don’t know. You’d have to ask her. I know she’s wonderful, and talented, and smart, and beautiful. And when I’m with her, something just… connects. And I’m just so very lucky.”

Anna cooed and Ruby looked impressed.

“Okay. I think I’m starting to get it.”

The doors opened up and they were greeted by music blaring so loud it made any attempt at further conversation impossible. There were people dancing in the spaces between the tables (Castiel recognized at least some of them from various tabloids and movie posters) and others were squeezing in the booths, making out or screaming to make themselves heard. Anna and Ruby pointed at a table that didn’t seem to have much people in them, and started greeting everyone there and catching drinks from the various waiters and waitresses walking around.

Castiel managed to make his way to the rooftop doors and the bar outside. The music was muffled the minute he closed the doors, and the ambient seemed a lot calmer there: people were hurdled in groups of two or three, talking and drinking privately. The bartender (a muscly guy with shades, even though it was past one in the morning) nodded to his request for virgin margaritas and started shaking them enthusiastically.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the mysterious Castiel Novak,” someone said at his back.

If he hadn’t been listening to that voice for three hours magnified by speakers, he probably would have recognize it faster. Gabriel Speigh was standing right behind him, a glass of Scotch in his hand and a friendly smile that immediately made Castiel’s guard go up.

“Oh, hello… Mr. Speigh…” he said.

The radio host laughed and grabbed his hand to shake it like they were old friends.

“Don’t be so shy, you can call me Gabriel,” he told him. He planted the empty glass on the counter and signaled the bartender to fill it up again. “Been trying to catch a glimpse of you for almost a year. Well, glimpses we’ve seen in the tabloids, but it’s another thing entirely to see you, in person. You’re an elusive dude.”

“I… don’t quite follow,” Castiel said, sincerely.

Gabriel didn’t seem particularly interested in clarifying his statement. He grabbed his now full glass and pointed a finger at Castiel.

“They keep you on a short leash, huh?”

“That’s not true,” Castiel argued, frowning. “Meg and I are dating, sure, but she doesn’t…”

“Boy, no, I don’t mean your girlfriend,” Gabriel replied, shaking his hand as if the notion was a cloud that he could disperse by doing that. “I mean Roadhouse Records. I heard the EP of these new kids you’re writing for, and they’re awesome…”

“Thank you,” Castiel said, making a mental note to let Alexis and her band know about the compliment the next time he saw them. “They’re amazingly talented, I’m only just a guide for them…”

“Ah, modesty.” Gabriel pointed a finger at him and laughed as if he had just say something very funny. “Don’t keep that up, kid. You won’t go far with it.”

Castiel would have asked him what he meant, except that there was a fluster at the door. When he looked, he couldn’t hold back the grin in his face. Meg had just walked in. She was wearing a dark red cocktail dress and looking around to find him. He waved his hand, and when Meg spotted him, she went directly towards him. It was amazing how easy that always was. It almost felt like they were magnets, finding each other through every crowd and every difficulty.

“Hello, Gabriel,” she said, as she grabbed Castiel’s hand and leaned close to him. “Hope you’re no hitting on my boyfriend.”

“Oh, hell no.” Gabriel shook his head. “Do you have any idea what Kali would do to me?”

“So you really are back together?”

Gabriel seemed obfuscated by the directness of the question.

“Well, you know, yeah, in a sense. We worked a lot on that routine tonight…”

“Very funny, by the way.”

“Thank you. And you know, it reminds us of what we loved about working together. But that isn’t always the best base for a relationship.”

He looked at them pointedly and Castiel felt an uncomfortable knot forming in his stomach. Meg, however, laughed out loud and grabbed the margarita the bartender had left in front of them.

“I appreciate the advice, but we have enough people already pestering us with their opinion,” she said. “Some of them even write them down and pass them for journalism.”

“I get that, I get that.” Gabriel raised his arms defensively, but still smiling wide. “Anyway, I didn’t come here to get all Dr. Phil on you two. I was actually wondering if your Romeo here would like to come to my show some time for an interview.”

“Really?” Castiel asked, tilting his head. “I thought you only interviewed musicians.”

“We’re expanding,” Gabriel explained. “We’re thinking about having a section to talk to producers, managers, all sort of people who work behind the scenes to give a sense of what goes on there. Very interesting stuff.”

“Will it work? In my experience, people who work behind the scene do that because that’s where they like to be,” Meg commented.

Castiel tried to imagine Jo giving an interview about how she did her job, and all he picture was her anxiously looking at her phone and organizing brunches via text message and urging people to have a new song ready for later that day. Jo lived a very intense life, but he couldn’t imagine it being intense or interesting from an outside observer.

“Well, it’s worth the shot,” he said. “Better than just speculating about someone’s love life all the time, ain’t it?”

Meg nodded, giving him the reason. Gabriel looked over her shoulder, excuse himself and went to talk to another group of people. Meg punched Castiel on the shoulder friendly.

“Look at you, making a name for yourself and all that,” she commented. “Soon you’re gotta be the hottest song writer in this tinsel town and I’m going to have to actually pay you.”

“Jo already pays me,” he reminded her. He left his drink on the counter and lassoed his arm around her waist. “In any case, no amount of money could rip me from your side.”

“Is that right?” she asked, running her fingers down his tie.

“Are you not convinced?”

“Well… perhaps I need a bit more… convincing argument…”

She pulled the tie out of his vest and pulled him close. Castiel was so ready to make the most convincing argument ever, but right then Anna and Ruby came running at them and dropped on the stool that Gabriel had just left.

“Let’s take a selfie together!” Anna proposed, holding her phone up.

“Really, right now?” Meg didn’t even attempt to hide her irritation. “Why? Selfies are stupid.”

“Yeah, but Lucifer just followed Anna on Twitter since I’m not posting anything about the party,” Ruby explained. “So she can tweet it and he’ll see it and be fuming that we’re friends again.”

“That’s extremely passive-aggressive,” Castiel pointed out.

“Yes,” Meg agreed. “And I’m totally not above it. Bring that phone on?”

They huddled together and smiled, glasses high and cheeks together. Anna took a couple more because “they had to look like they were having the time of their lives”. Finally, she found one that satisfied her and wrote something on her phone quickly while Meg and Ruby chuckled maliciously.

“Why was he so on edge, anyway?” Meg asked. “I swear I haven’t seen him that angry since that metal band stiff us from being their opening number.”

“No clue. Last time I talked to him before this, he was made because they didn’t give him the part of the Joker in that new movie they’re making.”

“Are you kidding me?” Meg’s glee at her former frontman’s misery was almost uncontainable. “He auditioned for that?”

“So, hey,” Anna moved away from Ruby to sit at Castiel’s side. “The piano arrangements in Meg’s new album; that was you right? You play very well.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said, not sure why people kept telling him all those nice things while Meg was right there and she had just won three awards. “Yes, I… studied.”

“I know you’re busy with Meg’s new album, but how about I send you the things I’ve been working on and you give me an opinion on them?” Anna said. “I got people who play other instruments giving me their opinion, but I always thought you need a special sensibility to understand piano, you know?”

“Absolutely, yes,” Castiel agreed, glad the topic had changed. “It’s a marvelous instrument with so many possibilities, and I’ve noticed how some people don’t take advantage of all of them.”

“I know, right?!”

“Hey, but for real, if he gives you a hard time, call me up. Don’t even hesitate about it,” Meg was telling Ruby. “I’ll always have a place for you. Or I’ll find one. I know you don’t like to play second fiddle, but…”

“I might do what you did and just walk out all together,” Ruby confessed. “I’ve actually been thinking about it for a while. It’s just not the same without you, and the new girl is so fucking over the top. I mean, she’s not bad… she takes herself a little too seriously.”

“Where did you even find her? ‘Cause I read in a magazine that she was a friend of Lilith’s, but…”

“We held auditions and told them it was to be a touring member only,” Ruby sighed like she was talking about the horrors she had seen during a war. Meg laughed in her face and got punched on the shoulder for it.

“There’s actually a piano on the other room,” Anna informed Castiel after they were talking about their favorite brands and composers. “I bet if you talk to the DJ, he’ll let you play a song on it.”

“I don’t know.” Castiel scratched the back of his neck. “I’m not good at performing in public.”

“What are you two talking about?” Meg asked, turning to them. Anna explained it to her, and that shine that meant she was going to get away with hers no matter the cost appeared in her eye. “Hey, that sounds fun. We haven’t played together in ages.”

“I’m not sure…” Castiel protested meekly, but he knew he had already lost that battle before it even began.

“Just one song,” she insisted, grabbing his hand and squeezing. “Please, please!”

“I… okay, fine,” he muttered, giving in. “But if I panic and freeze, you would have brought it upon yourself.”

“You’re not going to freeze,” she said. She sounded far more confident than Castiel felt. “I’m going to go talk to the DJ right now.”

Castiel could never understand how in the world she moved with such agility while wearing high heels, but there she went.

“Great!” Anna took out a portable battery from her purse and plugged her phone. “I’m going to need extra juice to film this and upload it.”

“Film what?” a woman passing by ask.

“Meg Masters is going to play a song with her composer,” Ruby announced, loud enough for other people who were around to hear her. It also didn’t help that the pulse of the loud music coming from the inside stopped at that very moment, meaning Meg had got her talk with the DJ.

“Meg Masters? Oh, I love her!”

“Yeah, I was wondering why she didn’t perform tonight. I wanted to see her!”

Castiel imagined he must have looked very much like a deer in the headlights when the tide of people turned towards him, some just smiling at him, some trying to shake his hand. They asked him some question and he answered them in a state of semi trance, and that might have been the worst thing he could do in front of people who all had phones and thousands of followers in their several social media accounts.

“Yes, of course… excuse me I should…” he tried to say, as he slowly inched away towards the glass doors. Meg appeared right behind them, a Cheshire cat grin on her face as she snatched him inside.

“Come on, guys, give us some room, please,” she said, dragging him away until finally she sat him on the piano. The DJ (a guy with a disheveled goatee) came running and handed her a microphone. “Thank you, Rudy.”

Rudy raised both thumbs at them and scurried away into the crowd that had formed around them. Castiel looked at them as the pit on his stomach grew considerably. They all looked like a blur in front of his eyes, all expectant and waiting and just staring…

Meg grabbed him by the chin and made him turn around.

“Hey,” she whispered, covering the mic with the other hand. “Eyes on me, okay?”

Castiel swallowed and raised the lid. The white and black keys extended in front of him and he sighed. That he knew how to do. That was familiar. He played a simple melody to make sure it was in tune, and when he was satisfied, he looked at Meg and nodded.

“You know the one I want,” she told him, with a mischievous smile as she extracted a cigarette from her purse and put it in her lips.

He did. The song that had started everything.

The crowd awed and cooed when he played the first notes of _Sky-Eyed Boy_. It had probably been the least successful of the album’s singles, because it was hard to top the juggernauts that were _Indestructible_ and _Lessons in Repetition._ And both those songs were good and Castiel was proud of them. But this had been the song that brought them together in the first place, the song that changed as much as they relationship did during that first year working and falling in love together.

Meg raised the mic and her smoky voice whispered the first verse:

_Like a lazy summer dawn_

_He’s warm and he’s gentle_

_My sky-eyed boy…_

She had been right. It was a lot easier when he just did what everyone else did and just focused on her. When he just let the sway of her hips mark the cadence of the song, when he imagined the spotlight like a halo around her. Castiel’s fingers danced over the keys just as her voice soared for the chorus:

_And if there are ever any clouds_

_I’ll chase them away_

_‘Cause I can’t live without his stars_

_He has the sun in his face_

_My sky-eyed boy, shining so bright…_

Castiel closed his eyes. He got lost in their song, and before he realized, the last notes vanished in the air like the smoke of Meg’s cigarette. People were clapping and cheering and asking for another one, and Castiel just then remembered they had all been listening to him, and probably seen him (and filmed him) closing his eyes and smiling like an idiot.

“Guys, guys, come on, I’m sure Rudy wants to finish doing his job,” Meg commented. “Right, Rudy?”

Rudy was sitting before his console, his feet up in the air and a magazine in front of him. He shake his hand and turned the page around, obviously completely uninterested in turning the music back on for the time being. The crowd laughed and turned their attention back to him.

“Okay, I guess we can play one more,” she said, to Castiel’s panic, but the she countered it by asking: “Who wants to come up here and join me?”

Anna and Ruby were on that in the blink of an eye, and really, with those three together in the eye of the hurricane, Castiel was pretty certain no one paid attention to him.


	4. Chapter 4

They made him play three more songs: one from Anna, one from Adele – who luckily wasn’t there to listen how he butchered it – and finally another one for Meg. By that point, Rudy had finished reading his magazine and started playing his mixes again. People danced, drank and tried to intercept them on the way to the door, but even though it was early (three in the morning was early for these kind of parties), they were both exhausted. New York had nothing on that place. Hollywood was the true insomniac.

“That was fun,” Meg commented, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Absolutely,” Castiel agreed. “Please, never make me do anything of the sorts again.”

Meg laughed and grabbed his tie to pull him closer to her.

“You know I always had this fantasy of doing it in an elevator,” she whispered.

Castiel put his hands on her hips to hold her steady. “That is a very interesting fantasy,” he said. “But I don’t think we should try to fulfill it right now.”

“Why, you got performance anxiety about this too?”

“No, because I wouldn’t want us to be interrupted,” Castiel explained. “I believe the elevator at home has far more privacy.”

Meg’s laughter accompanied them all the way to their floor. She still hooked her legs around on his and he still peppered her neck with kisses until the doors opened for them.

“You gotta see this place,” Meg said, extracting the magnetic card from her purse. “Jo got us one of the good suits. We have a bathtub big enough to spend hours in there.”

Castiel didn’t answer, to busy sucking a hickie in the crook between her shoulder and her neck and sliding a hand up her skirt. Meg didn’t stop him, but she also acted like she didn’t notice it was going on, which was extremely frustrating. Especially when she walked away, swaying her hips like she knew exactly how titillating that was.

“Alright, I’m going to slip into something a bit more comfortable,” she said, shutting the bathroom door behind her.

Castiel giggled to himself and took off his jacket. He hadn’t realized how hot it was that suit, or perhaps he had sweat out of pure anxiety during his performance with Meg. In any case, a long bath in the big tub Meg had mentioned sounded perfect right about then. Or maybe in the morning when he was less tired and had to save up his energy for…

Something fell out of his pocket. His cellphone, mercifully ignored all night unlike Anna’s, still had a decent percentage of battery and there was a message blinking in the screen.

“Uh,” Castiel smiled after reading it. “Would you look at that.”

The bathroom’s door cracked open a little bit,

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Castiel said, finishing undressing and sitting on the bed. “Just a message from Jo. Tracy Bell liked my demo and she wants me to help her write a couple of songs for her album.”

Castiel sank his head in the pillow with a sigh. Funny how things worked out sometimes.

“So you’re going to be working with her now?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment. “I will always have time to work with you.”

He wasn’t even sure that was what Meg was trying to say, but by the huff that came out, it probably was.

“I hate sharing you,” she admitted. “But if I don’t, I’m just doing what your crazy ex-girlfriend did.”

“April wasn’t crazy,” Castiel muttered. “She was… a bit emotionally unstable. And mom says counseling is helping her enormously…”

He wasn’t even sure he was making any sense at this point. His head felt heavy and he wanted to be awake for when Meg came out, but it had been a very long night…

A million years later, the lights above his head went off. Someone was pulling his arm and sitting him up. He groaned and tried to lay back again, but she was surprisingly forceful.

“Come on, you’re not sleeping in your clothes. You’ll stink in the morning and I won’t want to kiss you.”

That threat was enough to get Castiel to open his eyes and cooperate. Meg helped him to his feet and kissed him again while reaching for his belt. Of course she was wide awake and frisky at that hour of the night. She was a nocturnal animal.

The tub was just as big as she had announced and it actually felt good to slide into the hot water with her. He could feel the tension from his body disappearing with every inch she massaged and kissed, and after they were both satisfied, she leaned against him and tangled her legs with his.

“Best night ever,” she commented in a raspy whisper.

“Yes.” Castiel wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her wet hair. “I should have known my sleeping schedule would fly out of the window the second you were back.”

“Come on,” Meg giggled. “Jo’s gonna let us have the day off tomorrow on account of us winning… and if she’s not, we’re taking it anyway. I heard this place has the most amazing breakfasts.”

“All praise the great breakfast,” he laughed, tangling his fingers in her hair.

They stayed in silence for a long while, their bodies weightless and limp, Meg’s breathing tingling his neck. Castiel wanted to find something else to tell her, something else to let her know how much all this meant to him, but he wasn’t good with words, so instead he started humming. He wasn’t even sure what song or if it was something he was making up on the spot, but it got Meg to move her head a little to look up at him.

“Cas?” she asked. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“What thing?” he muttered, his eyes close. He felt at the edge of slipping into sleep, but he supposed he would have to get up and actually go to bed at some point… in another minute… when the water got cold…

“Working with me,” Meg replied. “I know studios are calling to get you to write for them and there are a bunch of great artists you could be writing for…”

“You’re a great artist,” Castiel cut her off. “I will always love working with you.”

“Always?” she repeated. “Are you sure about that?”

“Absolutely.”

“What if I relapse?”

“I’ll take care of you,” he said. “Benny will be there for you as well… you won’t have to do it alone.”

“What if I decide to start writing country music?”

“In what universe is that even a possibility?”

“What if we get a highly publicized divorce?”

“Well, first we would have to get married for that,” he pointed out. “And since you’re so staunchly anti-marriage…”

“What if I changed my mind about that?”

That was surprising enough for Castiel to jolt awake.

“What?”

Meg looked surprised herself, like she too had been mumbling half asleep and only now realized the weight of her words.

“I… no, forget I said it. It’s stupid.”

She sat up, making the water waved and go over the edge of the tub, splashing on the floor. He could tell she was about to make a run for it (and probably fall and break her jaw in the process) so he grabbed her hand and reached for her chin to make her look at him.

“It’s not stupid,” he replied. “Meg, it’s not stupid at all.”

Reluctantly, she turned to look at him.

“Oh?” she replied, with a crooked eyebrow. “So you would marry me?”

She looked so beautiful, with her dark hair cascading down her back, her skin glowing in the bathroom’s dim light, her lips swollen from where he had kissed them and bitten them that for a second, he dithered on the edge of saying yes. He wanted to marry her right there. What were they doing in that stupid tub? They could go out and find a church still open somewhere…

He wrestled those thoughts back into his mind. She deserved so much better than a shotgun wedding in the heat of the moment.

“I love you,” he said instead, and he figured that was a good place to start. “You know this. I love you so much, and I love what we have and I love our partnership. I want all of that to last forever.”

“Are you seriously proposing right now?” she asked, a note of increasing hysterics in his voice, and Castiel was ever so glad he didn’t say the first thing that had come into his mind.

“No,” he clarified. “I’m saying the idea of marrying you is not out there as you might think it is. But… it’s kind of soon to be talking about these things.”

Meg’s shoulders relaxed visibly as she let out a deep sigh.

“Okay,” she muttered. “I can work with that.”

“Technically, I would say you were proposing to me,” he commented.

“That was not what I was doing,” Meg protested.

“Of course it wasn’t.”

“How do you get ‘ _do you want to marry me?_ ’ from all the crap that I just said?”

“You did talk about our divorce,” Castiel pointed out. “That means you assume we’re going to get married at some point and since it was you that brought it up…”

“Okay, you need to get some sleep. Now,” Meg decided. She pulled him out of the tub and threw a bathrobe at his head.

Castiel slid his arms inside the sleeves while Meg stood in front of the mirror, trying to untangle her hair with her fingers. He tried to kiss her but she pushed him, arguing she needed to dry her hair first.

He fought against sleep until he felt the mattress sinking besides him. He turned around and tentatively placed a hand around her waist.

“FYI, if I ever do propose, you’re going to know,” he said. “I’m doing the whole going down on one knee and giving you a ring thing.”

“How nice,” Meg muttered, but her sarcasm was greatly diminished when she inched closer to him and nuzzled his neck. “And FYI, if we do get married, we’re not getting a divorce. Like hell I’m ever letting you go.”

Castiel laughed and gently placed a kiss on her forehead before she buried her face in his chest. Outside their window, Hollywood was still awake, but they were fast asleep, happily resting in each other’s arms.


End file.
